by Ilana Waters
But I was too fast, too good for her. I pulled an invisibility spell at the last second; now it was useful. I had to clap my hands over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Not that it would have mattered in all the noise of the metro car. Still, it was thrilling to add yet another level of secrecy to our little cat-and-mouse game.
And seeing her from the front revealed that her blouse was equally as snug as her skirt. I grinned. I could already feel my hands ripping away that blouse, that skirt, hands pushing my way up her thighs. She wouldn’t want to spend the morning under her boss’s thumb. Surely she’d rather spend it under me. I sent waves of these pleasant thoughts in her direction, images of her writhing and struggling under a man whose face she could not see.
By the time she got off the car, the young woman was truly terrified. She started running, almost tripping in her ridiculous heels. She was trembling and pale by the time she arrived in front of a man working security. I removed the invisibility spell and nonchalantly got off the car at the same stop, along with several other people. I continued walking in her direction. Then I picked up an abandoned newspaper and pretended to be engrossed in it while looking over the top.
The woman was pointing in my direction without actually pointing at me. The man took out a pen and notepad and seemed to be asking her questions. But she was shaking her head, looking around, gesturing towards me in an urgent manner. The man pursed his lips, then put his pen and notepad away. The woman continued gesturing even more frantically, but the man just folded his arms and shook his head.
Yes, my dear, I smiled to myself. How do you report a stalker you can’t see well enough to describe? Tell the nice security official. See how far you get before he accuses you of wasting his time, or drinking early in the morning. I snickered while the official continued shaking his head. The woman, defeated, glanced around fearfully as she left the station.
I laughed in triumph. Throwing my newspaper on the ground, I marched up the steps into broad daylight again. Perhaps I should have followed her to work and enjoyed myself with her there. Next time, I would.
Next time? I stopped so abruptly that three tourists—from France, I think—plowed into me from behind. I learned some new French words as they shook their fists and walked away. I kept walking as well. As soon as I could, I stepped into the nearest alleyway, where I leaned the back of my head against a wall and tried to breathe.
What am I doing? I’d stalked a woman. Committed a crime. All right, I’m no stranger to crime. But such extracurricular activities usually involved falsifying documents and occasionally killing very bad people. I’d never done something like this before.
And I loved it. In fact, I couldn’t believe how much I loved it. My skin was hot, my whole body tingled. I never felt so in control, so alive. Well, perhaps there is a more inappropriate word for it than “alive.” However, I do remember what gentle sensibilities you have, dear reader. But what had I meant by calling the people here “mongrels,” and saying they’d be gone for good?
I walked a few more blocks, trying to clear my head. But I didn’t get very far before there was another unsettling event. Although it was a perfectly clear day, with white clouds drifting against a bright blue sky, the latter began to darken. Gray, ominous clouds rolled in. From the confused looks of people pointing to the sky, I gathered that no storms had been predicted for today. I gazed up like everyone else, just as puzzled. I could see a few surges of lightning in the clouds, hear the low rumble of thunder.
Then, it was as if the sky exploded. There were no light patters of rain turning into large, fat drops. Just a burst of lightning so bright it was blinding, and a crack of thunder so loud it made people scream. The downpour was like a waterfall. And the wind. The wind was a giant hand driving us all backwards. The sides of my jacket splayed out horizontally; my hair was pushed so flat I felt bald. The sound was like an oncoming train headed straight towards us.
I managed to hold onto a parked car for support. All around me, people clung to street lamps and telephone poles. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an old woman knocked to the ground. Faded shutters on older buildings banged open and shut. Some hit the walls with such force, they came off their hinges and flew through the air. Loose bricks and stones turned into deadly projectiles. One large piece of marble smashed into the back window of a car. Two children within screamed.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, the whole thing was over. The rain and wind stopped, the dark clouds parted, the sky was blue once again. Water ran through the road like a shallow river. It carried all manner of garbage with it, the gutters barely able to keep up. More garbage and debris plastered stores, cars, and people. Parts of buildings and vehicles littered the ground. Dented trash cans rolled down the block.
A few good Samaritans were helping the fallen old woman off the sidewalk. The father of the two children in the car rushed out of the front seat and threw the back door open. The children were crying, but from what I could see, they were unharmed. I leaned on a car for support, trying to catch my breath. The weight of my drenched clothes felt like a lead suit.
I should have tried to stop it. I should have used magic . . . But it was all over too fast. And there was a strange feeling in the air. It wasn’t like normal air, which was how I knew the freak storm wasn’t truly weather-related. There was magic involved, but nothing I recognized. I scanned the area for supernaturals, but saw none. Could it be Oblivion?
When I got back to the Hassler, I should have been exhausted. But somehow, I felt too wired to sleep. I changed out of my wet clothes and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling while Oblivion’s words echoed in my mind. There will be little difference between your desires and mine.
How do you fight a demon that doesn’t even feel like one? That just feels like . . . you? And who may be able to control nature better than the most powerful witch? I didn’t find an answer that morning. Finally, I fell asleep. I dreamed of women in red blazers ravaged by sharp branch-fingers. Of children tossed about in a storm like leaves on the wind. And horns. Horns on my own head, my face black as night.
Chapter 5
I arrived at my parents’ suite just before sundown, having gotten up hours earlier. I spent most of those hours pacing back and forth in my room, running over the conversation with Oblivion in my mind. I kept searching for answers, but only came back with more questions.
“You’re here early,” Abigail said. The elevator door opened and I stepped into the foyer. “Your father’s not even up yet.” Her voice was scratchy and her eyes were red. I hugged her for a few long moments.
“Well, you’d better close all the curtains and get him up, Mom.” I held her shoulders at arm’s length. “I’ve called Arthur to come here, too. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Just wait till we’re all assembled.”
She gave me a worried look. “Okay, but . . . do you have a fever?” I put my hand to my forehead before she got the chance to do it.
“I don’t think so.”
“Huh. You look kind of . . . well, anyway, you see to the curtains. I’ll wake the beast.”
Soon, we were all seated in the suite’s living room on various couches and chairs. Evidence of Abigail’s crying aside, I was relieved to see that my parents looked a little better. Abigail was hardly limping at all, and like Titus, the cuts on her face had almost healed. I could see the outline of a shiny circle on the side of Titus’s head; the only evidence of the bruise that had been there. But he was still moving tentatively, which meant the effects of the electrocution remained for now.
I took a deep breath, and told them everything that happened since I left the Hassler last night. Well, almost everything. I mentioned being caught in the freak storm, of course, and the unnatural magic that surrounded it. But I couldn’t bear to include the part where I’d stalked a woman. All was quiet for a moment. Then everyone began talking at once.
“Are you o
ut of your mind?” Abigail shrieked.
“What were you thinking?” Titus demanded, his voice fierce despite his weakened state. “Of all the idiotic things to—”
“I thought you went back to your room!” Arthur said in dismay. “I told you not to do—”
“All right!” I shouted, leaping up from my chair. Everyone stopped talking and stared at me. “What’s done is done.” I cleared my throat. “Now, we just have to figure out what it means and what to do about it.”
“I told you not to do anything unusual until I returned.” Arthur buried his face in his palm.
“I hardly think going for a walk qualifies as ‘unusual,’ Arthur.” I sat back down.
“But meeting a demon does,” said Abigail.
“That was not part of my original itinerary.”
“You’re right about that spontaneous storm though, I’m afraid.” Arthur sighed. “Analysts at the PIA agree it wasn’t just a meteorological phenomenon. It came with a burst of otherworldly kinetic energy. And I imagine it would have made the front page, except this did.” He pulled out a newspaper he’d brought with him and waved it.
“What did?” I asked. “I haven’t read or watched the news since I got back from the underground.”
He handed me the paper, and I scanned the headlines. It was a late edition, in Italian, but I translated it to English. “ ‘Category Five Hurricane Makes Landfall in Puerto Rico.’ ” I looked up. “Did either of you hear about this?” Abigail and Titus nodded silently. I continued reading. “ ‘There was barely any time to classify the hurricane as a tropical storm before it made a direct hit on Puerto Rico this afternoon. In an unprecedented event, Hurricane Xander emerged nearly full-blown, wreaking havoc across the island.
“ ‘The World Meteorological Association is baffled as to how the storm developed so rapidly.’ ” I ran my finger down the thin columns of text. “ ‘With winds of up to two hundred miles per hour, there are reports of at least five hundred dead and thousands more injured. An unknown number of homes and businesses have been destroyed. Worldwide charity organizations are asking for donations . . .’ ” I shook my head, mouthing the rest of the article to myself. I imagined a scene in Puerto Rico similar to what happened with the surprise storm, only much, much worse. Buildings and bridges fallen over, or crushed completely. Innocent people buried beneath the wreckage, with only a few surviving.
I handed the paper back to Arthur. “Does the PIA think this is supernatural, too?”
“Afraid so,” he replied. “Same energy signature as the storm in Rome.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oblivion?”
“Impossible to tell,” he said. “But definitely not normal.”
“Joshua, I think it would be best if you stayed in our suite for now.” Titus was staring at the carpet, palms together, fingertips at his mouth. “At least until this is resolved—”
“If it can be resolved,” I remarked. Abigail shot me daggers with her eyes.
“—until this is resolved,” he repeated. “For your safety and that of others.”
“Fine.” I ran my fingers through my hair.
“And so the question remains,” Titus looked back up, “of how to handle our little demon friend.”
“He sounds repulsive.” Abigail shuddered.
“He sounds terrifying.” Arthur grimaced.
“Bit of both, actually.” I looked at a carafe of water on the coffee table. I didn’t remember drinking anything since last night. By rights, I should have been parched, but I wasn’t thirsty at all.
“And it’s the same demon that is in us vampires?” Titus brought his hand halfway to his chest, almost as if he were self-conscious.
“I think so, or part of it,” I said. “I don’t really understand how it works. Suffice it to say, the one I saw is much worse than a vampire.”
Worse than a creature built to kill? Titus’s thoughts were for me alone. Our eyes met. This is very serious indeed. I cast my own eyes down and tried not to let uneasiness show in my face.
“Well, I don’t think you should go there anymore, Joshua,” said Abigail. “To that awful, underground place.”
Titus nodded. “I was just about to say the same thing.”
“Frightening how much we think alike,” she said.
“Yes,” he replied. “It’s almost as if we’re married.”
“Ah, I think you’re both forgetting something.” I waved my hand in front of me. “If Oblivion wants me back down there, I don’t exactly have a choice.”
“You should at least have someone go with you,” Arthur said.
“Everyone, I think you’re missing the point. The demon’s not in the underground. He’s inside me.” I paused. It was still a hard thing to say out loud. “Besides, he could easily prevent anyone from accompanying me if he wanted to.”
And even if he didn’t, I don’t want you all getting hurt. Of course, Oblivion could just as well make me hurt them above ground. The very thought had me going cold all over. But I also didn’t want anyone to go down there because I didn’t want them to see Oblivion—to see me. Possibly the real me, the one I’d always been. It was just too hideous to comprehend.
“Then why isn’t he preventing you from telling us all this?” Arthur furrowed his brow and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Obviously, he wouldn’t want his plans for a bloody takeover spoiled.”
I gave a hopeless shrug. “Why would he need to stop me from telling you? What does it matter if everyone knows, if there’s nothing anyone can do to stop us? Him! Oh God, I meant stop him!” I buried my head in my hands. To my surprise, Titus gave me a few slow pats on the shoulder. Abigail squeezed her eyes shut, and I could tell she was trying hard not to cry again.
“So much for a benign demon,” Arthur said softly.
“Oh, shut it, you pathetic old coot!” I snapped. “You think we don’t know that already?” Everyone stared at me, and Arthur’s jaw grew slack.
“Arthur, I . . . I’m so sorry.” I nearly put my hand over my mouth. “I don’t know what came over me.” I can’t believe it. We’re all on edge, but I just turned furious for no reason. I would never speak to Arthur like that.
“It’s all right, Joshua,” he said. “It seems this Oblivion’s influence is even worse than we thought.”
“Yes,” I sighed. “Definitely not a poor little friendly spirit whose only wish is to exist. Why does he think taking over my body will help him rule the world, anyway?”
“Don’t know,” Titus murmured, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. “Perhaps you have unique attributes as a mage that he needs. Perhaps he wants to use your powers as a catalyst to start a war, or spread a plague or something. The bottom line is, once he has control over you, he can do anything he wants.”
“Do we at least know when he’ll try to take over, or do whatever else he’s planning?” Abigail clasped her hands in her lap.
“I’m afraid not,” I replied. “Just that it ‘won’t be long.’ ”
“Those were his exact words?” she said.
I rubbed my temples. “Several times, I’m afraid. He even said something about how there would soon be little difference between my desires and his. So, let’s assume the worst and figure we need to stop this as soon as possible. Arthur,” I turned to him, “did you find anything useful at the PIA?”
“As a matter of fact, I did,” he said. “Or at least, I almost did.”
“Almost did?” Titus repeated.
“Yes. There’s a particular book that may help us—”
“Grand!” I perked up for the first time in hours.
“—but it’s in a safe to which only the senior members have access.”
“Great,” I groaned.
“Surely you can finagle one of the senior members into opening the safe for you, Arthur,” Abigail said.
“I wish it were that easy,” Arthur said. “Unfortunately, senior members usually have a reason for keep
ing things in the safe. So you need a damn good reason yourself to want them to open it. Even initiating the request can make you seem suspect.” He raised his eyebrows. “But one of you could get the book. With your magic powers, I’m sure you could be in and out in a jiff without the senior members even knowing.”
Abigail sucked air in through her teeth. “Ooo—safecracking. Not my thing. I could probably take it apart by manipulating the metal in it, but no guarantee I could put it back together.”
“Yes, we’d definitely need it to seem as if it hadn’t been touched,” Arthur said. “Everyone at the PIA’s still on high alert since . . . ah . . .”
“Since a mage infiltrated the organization?” I prompted. “Which led the High Council to nearly destroy part of the building?”
“Yes. That,” said Arthur. He looked at my father. “And I’d ask for your help in this case, Aurelius, but—”
“But even if my husband were at his full strength,” interrupted Abigail, “he’d just barge in, break open the safe, and kill anyone who tried to stop him.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing, dear,” said Titus drily.
“Too bad you fired me,” I said to Arthur. “Although I suppose I could always sneak into the PIA late at night anyway. You never did take back my key.” Not that I’d need one to enter a building.
“I do wish you wouldn’t sneak—wait, why?” asked Arthur. “Do you know how to crack open safes?”
I nodded. “It’s part of my skill set.”
“It’s settled, then.” Titus gave a sharp nod. “You will go with Arthur tonight and retrieve that book from the PIA.”
“I thought you wanted me to stay in the suite.”
“That was before your criminal aptitude was the only thing standing between the world and a demon,” he said.
Abigail frowned. “Do I even want to know where you learned to crack safes, Josh?”
